Xander stood just inside the door of the bookstore. He just couldn't believe his eyes. He'd stopped in to get a last minute gift for Willow, something normal and non-magicky, but from the moment he'd stepped inside, all he could do was stare. The owners had had someone come in and fix the entire store up into a replica of Santa's workshop, complete with a little barn full of stuffed reindeer in the kid's section. And out in the very center of the store, surrounded by huge piles of Santa dolls, was the very chair where Santa himself would sit to listen to kids' wishes.

Wandering around the store, ever mindful of the presence of his 'shopping buddy', he stopped and took a book off of a table display. Just then, he heard a small voice screaming, "Mommy!" and the sound of little feet running as fast as they could to the other side of the store. Xander closed his eyes and thought about sending up a prayer, but stopped himself when he realized it'd just be a waste of good energy. Instead, he replaced the book, turned, and sought out the blonde hair of his 'shopping buddy'. "Spike, what did you do to that kid?"

Spike looked up with a look of wounded innocence. "What makes you think I did anythin'? 'M not the only one in the store, you know."

Smiling sweetly, Xander walked over and took Spike’s hand in his. “Okay. If you can look me in the eye and swear that you didn’t do anything, I’ll believe you.”

Spike grumbled and snatched his hand back, shoving them both into his coat pockets and wishing desperately for a fag. “That’s not right, that. Makin’ me swear an’ all. Fine! If you must know, she wouldn’t believe me about all that ‘be good or Santa won’t visit you’ rot bein’ nothin’ more than emotional blackmail to keep ‘em in line.”

Xander raised his hands and buried his face in them, whimpering as he said, “I never should have let you go with Willow to that seminar on Holiday Icons. Spike, you just can’t tell kids things like that. Whether or not they believe in Santa is something for the parent to decide. It’s not our place to barge in and take over.”

Spike rolled his eyes at Xander and huffed out an annoyed breath. “Whatever, just none of you better come cryin’ to me when your kids end up in therapy, that’s all.”

As Xander was about to start in on another point, a lady with a very angry look in her eyes cleared her throat behind him. “Excuse me, but which of you was it that took it upon themselves to talk to my daughter about Santa Claus?”

“Oh no,” Xander muttered under his breath, moving to stand behind Spike. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. He didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that sometimes he gets involved in a discussion and he can forget who he’s talking to.”

Smiling tightly, the woman placed one fisted hand on her hip, pointing an accusing finger at them with the other. “Well, that’s just lovely. But now I’m the one that has to explain to my little girl that not only is Santa Clause real, but he’s also still very much alive. Maybe you should think twice about bringing him out in public if he can’t control himself. Good day!”

The lady walked away. Xander watched as she stopped a few feet away, scooped up a wailing child, and rushed out the door. Outwardly, he looked normal and calm. Inwardly, however, he was fuming.

“Well, that was bracing,” Spike started, but stopped when he saw the look in Xander’s eyes.

“Spike, what exactly did you say to that little girl to make her think that Santa was dead?” Xander kept his hands clasped behind his back, afraid that if he didn’t he might cause a scene by smacking the vampire about the head a few times.

“Well, I had to prove my point, didn’t I? Couldn’t very well enter into a discussion without having anything to back up my side, could I?”

Xander couldn’t take anymore. It took an extreme amount of control to keep himself from screaming, and he was almost out of control. “What, exactly, did you say, Spike?”

Spike looked up as Xander all but screamed in his face. He swallowed and lowered his eyes, playing with a toy car on the table next to them. “Might’ve mentioned somethin’ about Santa bein’ executed for treason at the end of the last fey war. Shame, really, seein’ as how he was neutral an’ all.”

Eyes huge in disbelief, Xander reached out and grabbed the first thing he could reach and headed toward the check out counter.

Spike narrowed his eyes at Xander’s retreating form, then rushed to catch up. “Pet, what ya doin’?”

Xander refused to stop or even look at Spike. “I’m going to buy this for Willow. Then you and I are going home, where I will think, seriously, about taking that lady’s advice against ever bringing you out in public again.”

“Oh,” Spike said, smoothing a hand over his hair. “But, Pet, you do know that Willow’s Jewish, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Spike. She’s only been my best friend since birth.”

“Um.” Spike took a moment, considering whether to drop it there or not. But his curiosity just wouldn’t allow him to. “Then why are you gettin’ her that?”

Xander did stop then, giving Spike a questioning look-slash-glare. Then he looked down at what Spike was pointing at. Inwardly, he groaned at the little singing Santa doll clutched tightly in his hand.

Outwardly though, he just smiled and said, “Cuz.” And he pressed the little pad on the toy’s palm, listening to it sing Santa Claus is Coming to Town as he continued on to the cashier.

Spike hung back a little, watching Xander’s ass sway along with the tinny music as he walked. “Let’s hope Santa ain’t the only thing comin’ tonight.”

Flicking his fingers over his newly acquired mistletoe belt buckle, Spike went to catch up with Xander. “Always so pretty when your mad, Pet.”